Page 93 of Full Circle

That had to be a lie. We were in court; I heard the judge talking about it…

Except I had blocked out so many memories from that part of my life. It was the lowest I had ever been. One of my psych classes in college suggested that our brain would remove traumatic memories to protect us, which made sense to me at the time. Now that I actually tried to visualize it, I couldn’t recall ever seeing the court papers for a restraining order. Nor could I distinctly remember the judge using the words “restraining order.”

I shook my head. None of that mattered now. “I never wanted to leave you, Celeste. We made promises to each other, promises I’ve done everything in my power to keep.”

Celeste scoffed and paced towards the door before rounding in on me. “Stop doing this! You don’t get to come back here and bringing up feelings and memories that?—”

“So you do feel something for me?” I interrupted. I knew it!

She threw up her hands and stormed towards the back door again. I was right on her heels.

“Why are you running away from this, lovebug?” I shouted. Catching her in my arms, I spun her around to face me, practically nose to nose. “I know you still love me. And if I have to spend every day for the rest of my life making the past ten years up to you, I will.”

Tears streaked her face as she ripped herself from my grasp. “You don’t even have a clue what I’ve been through the past ten years! The way I’ve struggled while you’ve been out living the high life!”

“Lovebug, I was earning that money for you just as much as me! You can take it all, I don’t care! Everything that’s mine is yours anyway!”

She snorted in disgust. “Because that’s always your solution to everything, Wes! Just throw money around, that’ll fix our problems! Take the Benedict Madden approach.”

My comeback died out in my throat. It never occurred to me that I was doing the same thing as my father, but she was right. I might be less of a dick about it—sometimes—than he was, but the results were the same. Money was a means to an end. There was always a dollar amount that was just right and opened whatever doors I wanted it to.

Celeste eyed me sadly. “I need you to leave River’s Run, Wes.”

“You need me to go or you want me to go?” The distinction mattered. This wasn’t the way any of this played out in my head, and I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“I don’t have the luxury of wanting anything anymore,” she said quietly.

“What does that even mean?” I asked in confusion. We were talking in riddles and I was missing a big clue.

Outside, the rain started to die down. Thunderstorms never lasted long here. Celeste glanced out the back door. “I should go,” she said, hitching her thumb over her shoulder.

“No, wait! Just tell me how I can fix this!” Defeat was not an option. Now that my addiction was back in full force, the only way I was leaving her would be if she told me directly she wanted me gone. Something about the way she acted made me question what was really motivating her behavior. Celeste wasn’t angry or upset about how hard I just smashed on her pussy, but wasn’t going to talk to me about what it meant for our future?

“I know you were the girl at the hotel!” I called out after her. She was almost to the gate, the rain gone and lighter clouds rolling in.

She smiled sadly over her shoulder. “Cinderella can’t stay at the ball forever, Wes. Neither can I.”

CHAPTER 44

THIS AIN’T IT

CELESTE

Leaving Wes’ house left me with more questions than answers. While he seemed genuinely confused over Madden Enterprises’ deal with Desiree, his excuses on everything else were weak at best. A restraining order—really? I was only sixteen and Wesley hadn’t done anything to me to warrant protection. Everything that happened at the hospital happened to the doctor and security guards, not me. It hadn’t even scared me because I was so used to his temper.

I was grateful the rain stopped, but I no longer thought going home was the best option. Desiree was the epicenter of all my problems and I didn’t have the energy to confront her. I was always welcome to stay at Marla’s so that was where I headed. It was doubtful Desiree would even let me speak to Iris until I gave her Mama’s book, anyway.

Letting myself in through the door behind her bakery, I climbed the stairs to Marla’s apartment and only remembered that Maggie was staying with her after a loud rendition of “Dancin’ in the Country” by Tyler Hubbard blasted out the front door. Maggie was in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top at a kitchen sink full of soapy water and dishes, singing at the top of her lungs while she danced along to the music.

“Hola, chica!” she called over to me. At the sight of my crestfallen face, she dropped the plate in her hands back into the water, thereby spraying all the counters with suds. “Oh my god, what happened? Is it Iris?”

The dam wall broke. Tears flowed freely and before I knew it, Maggie had me nestled onto the couch with a glass of red wine in my hand and her arm snuggling me against her shoulder.

“Spill,” she commanded like only a best friend could.

“Wes is here!” was my tearfully inarticulate response as I succumbed into a sniveling mess.

It took several minutes of her stroking my hair while I cried it out before I could even explain to her what had happened. By the time I calmed down enough to get all of it out, including the fact that Wes was my hotel mystery hookup, Marla had closed up the bakery and joined us, making me regale the story all over again. Maggie was left gaping at me like she wanted to catch flies while Marla pursed her lips in a way that told me she was holding back what she really wanted to say.

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